ghosts.

03.22pm,11th of April, 2010.
Listening to: 2AM - I Was Wrong.

Ghosts.
We used to enjoy it.

We used to.

But soon, I found myself alone.

Day after day, you stopped coming.

And day after day, I stood there waiting for you, stupidly believing you would come back for me.

That you would throw your arms around me all over again.

By convincing myself of this, I found the strength to stay.

I waited.

And waited.

But as time went on, I came to realize you were long gone.

You weren’t coming back for me, for you had already vanished.

Little by little, my will grew weaker. Fainter. Duller.

I gave up.

I gave in.

Like you, I stopped and I moved on.

My life, or whatever was left of it, continued.

I found my own way..

Without you.

And that’s when I hear your voice ringing in my ears.

“You weren’t there today.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

I try to keep a calm appearance.

You ask me bluntly,

“Where were you?”

You..

You’ve taken the words straight out of my mouth.

But, I will not show you my raw emotions.

I will not falter.

So, I keep up my cold exterior.

“Did you miss me?” I smile, teasingly.

I thought I could play it cool. I really did.

That was until you quietly said,

“I miss you.”

Jokingly or not, I will never know.

All I do know is that it was enough.

It was enough to send me running back to you.

So quickly..

To bring me back to that spot.

That time.

That place.

And I was foolish enough to trick myself into thinking you’d wait for me, like I have been for you.

All along.

I have been waiting for you.

Silently, but steadily.

Even when I said I’d abandon all thoughts of you..

You were still in the back of my mind.

Which is why I’ve been brought back here.

To wait again.

For you.

Maybe I’ve seen you there before.

Could it be that we’ve crossed paths without knowing?

It’s possible.

I've been here so long that I don't even remember who I'm looking for.

I've forgotten.

What your face looks like.

How your voice sounds.

Who you are.

Please remind me.

Because, to me, you're just a blur.

Just an empty space in my heart.

Just a ghost.

A ghost..

Was it really your voice I heard back then?

Or just the whisper of a memory long gone?

I don’t know anymore.

Or might it be me who haunts you, and not you who haunts me?

Am I the spirit without a shell?

Perhaps..

We are both hiding from the world and cut off from each other.

Perhaps we are all ghosts.

imagecredit: Tumblr

Behind the Story

The protagonist of this story is dealing with their most troubling emotion: confusion. And it is this exact confusion that is conveyed to the reader. Our character waits for somebody he loves. Whether it is their lover, their mother, their father, their sister or brother, they mean the world to them. This person waits and waits, but never meets them. For a little while, the protagonist believes that they have let go, but is soon drawn back. Like some unstoppable force is pulling them back. Before they know it, the details start to fade and much time has passed. Then, the realization comes that the character/s are just ghosts, which explains why the dialogue is quite one sided.

‘I was wrong.
Your words were so, so sweet that
I didn't realize you were playing me
with your words every day.

Baby you’re breaking my heart.
Baby you’re hurting my heart.
I want to stop this.
I know this is wrong.
But I keep going back to you.’

These lyrics bring forth the feelings of the protagonist; that even though they know it’s hurting, that can’t help but going back. The lies and small details don’t matter at all because the only thing that means something is that they find each other someday.

mirror mirror.

1.12am, 30th of March, 2010.
Listening to: Breaking Benjamin - What Lies Beneath.

Mirror Mirror.
She sits alone in the corner of a room painted white. White walls, white sheets, white floor. There are no windows to the outside world. This is the only world she knows now.

The walls are bare, save for a single plain-framed mirror by the door.

In her hands lies an old and tattered book. With her dainty pale white fingers, she traces the words printed on the creased, yellowing pages.

“Once upon a time,” she began to read, in a small and delicate voice. “There lived a lovely little Princess named Snow White.”

Sitting silently, she imagines to herself the face of this so-called princess. Lips red as a rose. Hair black as ebony. Skin white as snow.

Innocent and sweet, looking eagerly to the future.

Turning the page, she read, “Her vain and wicked Stepmother, the Queen, feared that someday, Snow White's beauty would surpass her own*-”

Suddenly, a high-pitched scream erupts from outside the room, a sound that would be unsettling for anyone else, but not this girl.

She simply closes the book and places it back gently on the shelf. Lying down on the flawlessly made bed, she closes her eyes.

Pretty princesses and wicked witches. The ideals of such things swirl around in her head.

Stories like these aren’t so different to the real world, if you think about it. It’s just that in reality, people aren’t always as they seem.

There was a time, though it seemed like centuries ago, that she had been afraid of the dark; terrified of what creatures laid in wait for her through the blackness.

“Don’t be afraid of things that don’t exist,” someone had once told her. “In our world, people are the real monsters.”

The screaming has died down, finally. There is nothing but silence now.

Not even the whistle of the wind or the chirping of crickets is present, but it’s not as if she can remember what those sound like anymore.

Then, footsteps.

Two of them, as it seems. Quick and precise, they proceed down the hallway, echoing as they go by.

They stay still for a little while and she strains her ears to listen. They’re standing at the door of the room next to hers. All she can hear is the sound of faint murmurs.

Then, the voices move closer. They're in front of her door now. Their conversation is low and hushed, but she can hear a few words at a time.

"Her.. as a child.."

"... Really?"

“.. suicide watch.”

Finally, she doesn't care anymore. She's heard enough to know that she doesn't want to listen any longer.

She rolls on her side and tucks her knees to her chin. Eventually, the two people outside leave, but not without uttering the last word she especially didn't want to hear.

"... Matricide."

After a while in silence, she sits up and walks over to the mirror next to the door. She peers into the glass, staring into her reflection. She stares into her soul, or what is left of it.

Her lips are no longer red as roses; they can only quiver into a faint pink frown.

Her hair is no more the sleek ebony black it once was; just dry, messy strands.

And her skin?

Though gaunt and paler than it had ever been, it is still as white as snow.

imagecredit: http://novacaine-kills.xanga.com/

Behind the Story

Just a story I thought would be interesting to write. Not one of my favourites, really. It’s a sad upbringing of an essentially innocent little girl. One who believed in fairy tales, with princesses and all. And when your world is as bleak as hers, why not imagine the impossible? With an abusive mother, there isn’t much else you can do to hide yourself. But one day, the wicked witch had drunken too much poison and attacked the poor princess. It happened so fast, the little girl didn’t know what to do. And before she knew it, her mother had fallen into a deep sleep. Without a Prince to give her a true love’s kiss, there would be no way to wake her up.

‘You, my queen, are fair,
‘Tis true.
But the young queen is
A thousand times fairer than you.’†

Children need love and affection. Violence is an issue that is happening a lot now, especially in homes. For kids, it’s not an easy thing to deal with. It’s not something they can understand. Whether they see it happening, or it’s happening to them, it traumatises them. And it inflicts more emotional pain than physical. Scars heal, but fear is something that you can’t wipe out. If you could stop it from being done, wouldn’t you? Blame can be pointed at anyone, but if you know you can do something about it, do it. Take a look in the mirror, see into yourself and do what you can make a child’s future a positive one.

* Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs (1937).
† Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm, Kinder- und Hausmärchen, (Children's and Household Tales -- Grimms' Fairy Tales), final edition (Berlin, 1857), no. 53. – Translated by D. L. Ashliman.

lit up.

9.35pm, 10th of February, 2010.
Listening to: 2pm ft Yoon EunHye – Tik Tok.

Lit Up.
I found him squatting down against the wall, a cigarette between his long, slender fingers.

“Ugh. Give me that!”

I reached for his hand, but he instinctively drew it away.

“Get your own!”

“For your information, I don’t smoke. And neither should you. Ever heard of emphysema? Or lung cancer?”

He raised an eyebrow. “What are you, my mother?”

“No, but I feel like I have to act that way since you’re such a kid!”

Catching him off guard, I lunged at his hand, successfully knocking it out of his grasp. A smug smile found its way onto my face. I couldn’t help it; he was just that slow.

“Hey! What the fuck!” He gave me a dirty look.

I walked off without looking back. “You’ll thank me when you realize that breathing fresh air is actually nice.”

Finally, I went back inside to join the others, leaving him sitting there, all alone.

“Whatever.” I heard him say before I shut the door.

Quickly, I took one last fleeting glance out the window.

Immediately after he had heard the door close, he lit up another smoke, letting the burning air fill his lungs once more. I turned around and walked off in disgust.

Disappointment. So this is how my parents must feel.

~

“Hey. You can have a cigarette if you want. I won’t say anything.”

I spoke quietly, careful not to say anything the least bit hurtful.

“Nah, I quit.”

My eyes widened. I turned to him in shock.

“Really? That’s great! Since when?”

He paused.

“Since you told me to.”

Behind the Story

Originally was written as part of another story which was never completed, and most probably never will be, this love story is one with a rough start, but a happy ending.
After meeting for the first time, the two don’t get along at all. They’re both somewhat sociopaths in their own way, [the girl not even having a relationship with her parents], but they both share the same obnoxious demeanour. Introduced by mutual friends, they have no choice but to tolerate each other. Over time, the girl subconsciously begins to have feelings for him, but keeps up her guard, because he is already in a relationship.
However, after vicious public display, he and his girlfriend break-up. After the fight, which the girl bears witness to, he leaves in exhaustion and she follows him, trying to cheer him up. For the first time, she shows a soft, passive side to him. When responding to her kindness, he reveals that he had actually taken the things she said to heart. Finally, he understands that he had always kept her in his mind and in his heart, from the moment they met.

‘Nobody knows;
How I want you like this every day.
Every time I embrace you behind the stage,
My heart bursts.

We greet each other awkwardly in front of people.
But when we turn away,
I'm the one who knows you best.’*

The song’s lyrics convey the feeling of loving the other person, without anybody knowing. In this case, nobody knows; not even themselves. But, the reason behind the writing of this story is to express the feeling when two people realize that they are in love. The pause before his last line is the sudden recognition, where the all the thoughts flickering wildly through his head come to a sudden halt; the dim light that was hidden away in his heart breaks out into a fierce flame and.. He sees her. He looks into her eyes; into her bare soul and, like a new shining star exploding from the apparent nothingness, he is lit up.

*Translation from http://eklyricos.blogspot.com/

pretty words.

11.37pm, 14th of January, 2010.
Listening to: Muse – Undisclosed Desires.

Pretty Words.
You don’t want me, yet you play with me. You hold me up with those pretty words, only to watch me fall again. I’m falling again. I’m falling for you again.

I don’t want you anymore.

But I want you.

I want you to leave me alone.

Why am I crying like this? It feels meaningless. The tears are empty. But, the pain burns as though it’s real. I’m crying over something that never even was.

I try to hold it in. I try to suppress these feelings.

I don’t close my eyes; I try to push back the tears. But, they overflow, anyway. The hot streams run down my face and slide down my neck. Then, the cool breeze blows past and makes the droplets icy cold.

I give up and slump against the wall, unmoving. The silent crying continues.

And I decide for myself. I won’t cry for you a minute longer.

I decide that I will erase you. Erase you from my life. So, I won’t cry. So, I won’t get tempted.

Finally, as I am about to let you go, there you are. You pop back into my life again with an innocent smile. Of course you smile. You don’t know what you’ve done.

So, like the fool I am, I make up a lie about my odd behaviour and my tearstained eyes. And I fall right back into your trap again. I fall again. To those pretty words of yours.

imagecredit: http://novacaine-kills.xanga.com/

Behind the Story

This one is about an unrequited love. The girl speaking has had a troubled past, and therefore cuts herself off from the rest of the world. But there is one person she feels she can open up to.. The boy she thinks she loves constantly flatters her and teases her, but she’s confused of how he truly feels; whether he’s trying to tell her something or if it’s really just another game. She wants to get rid of him, but before she even has the chance to wipe away her tears, he returns. Him, and all her memories of him come flooding back. He is oblivious to how he makes her feel and how she cries over him. He smiles at her, and as helpless as she is, all she can do is play along.

‘I want to reconcile the violence in your heart.
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask.
I want to exorcise the demons from your past.
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.'

She wants desperately to hear these words from his mouth. All she ever hoped for was someone to save her from herself. But, she knows that when she hears them, they will just end up being another lie. A few more pretty words.